Adventure Magazine Cover, February 3, 1921 — page 103: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

€ ‘The Road to El Dorado seconds, then tore the bandage from his head, revealing a ghastly scalp wound, and howled an exhortation to his men. Before the trapper and Rogers could gain the wood the chief was racing after them with his braves streaming along at his hacls. They had taken their turn in pursuing and in running away. Now they were on the offensive again, and with a warrior’s ‘heart behind their words chanted lustily of the punishment they would measure out to the Utes. How greatly fear had inflamed their i imag- ination was shown by the next mile of mad travel, which was covered without a Ute _ being seen or heard. Not until they were near the caion wall and about to turn te one side and make for the sacred spring did an enemy appear. Joe and Rogers raced toward the savage, opening fire at long range. ‘The former sus- tained his reputation as the best all-around shot of the plains by toppling the warrior from his pony. The spectacle of the Arapahoes charging like fiends and led by two white men caused the Utes to lose all stomach for battle. Before the two bands could come to close quarters the Utes were in flight, some scrambling down the,steep wall to take refuge in the depths of “the caiion. Now the Arapahoes were filled with the lust of slaughter and pressed hard after their hereditary foes, their occasional scalp- yell testifying to the taking of gory trophies. Once the Utes were definitely committed to flight, and in such a panic as to preclude their resuming the: offensive, the trapper withdrew from the fight and signaled for | Rogers to follow him. He passed the sacred spring and skirted the growth of evergreens until he came to the hidden glade where stood Lucky Denham’s wall-tent. < The beat of the flying hoofs brought a man on all fours from the tent, firing a re- volver at the respasser. The trapper shot him dewn without lessening his pace and rode.to the very entrance of the shelter be- fore dismounting. ' Blankets kicked to one side showed that the man on the ground was taking his ease when surprized. Turning from the tent, Joe rapidly. examined the silent form and recognized the dead man as one of Laramie Pete’s deserting teamsters. Calling on Rogers to leave his horse, Joe cast — behind the tent and quickly lo- 97 cated the opening of the path which led to the spring. Ignoring this, he examined the edge of the growth until he came to a faintly defined trail. It swung off at right angles to the path. The two men followed it for a quarter of a mile before they sighted a rough lean-to built of brush and logs. That the structure had been erected recently was indicated by the green leaves on the boughs forming the sloping roof. Several logs, side by side, stood on end and further reinforced by long timbers braced against them, obviously cov- - ered the only entrance to the lean-to. Without a moment’s hesitation. Joe started on the run for the shelter. Rogers, more wary, kept back in the rear, his rifle half-raised, his startled gaze searching to discover some trap. It was fortunate for the trapper that the miner was thus cautious. It was the sound of the miner’s rifle that brought Joe’s head around with a jerk. Rogers pointed to the left and proudly yelled: “Plugged him just as he was goin’ to drop you. He’s on th’ ground behind that first tree.” “Hau! Good for ye, Rogers. Laramie’s bar is free to ye when ye git back to Denver. ‘Th’ man in th’ tent was th’ night guard. This feller was takin’ th’ day trick. Inside th’ shack there!” There was a painful silence of several mo- ments, and then a faint voice answered: “Mary, help me! Whoisit? Iam June La Blanche. My father is Pierre La Blanche. We are good people.” Joe ran to the logs set on end, tore away the braces and then scattered the remaining timbers unti! he could thrust his head inside the opening. In one corner crouched the girl, her dark-eyes filled with horror. “My father is Pierre La Blanche—” she began. “T know, I know!” cried Joe. “You know me? California Joe, at yer service. Yer old friend.- Older friend of yer paw’s. Ye know Rogers, behind me here. “Hi! Come forward, Rogers. It’s th’ little gal. Ye know Rogers, honest miner. He helped me find ye. ‘Been hurt any?” She shook her head, muttering: “Not hurt except my heart has scarcely dared to beat. The two men took turns guarding this place. They scared me heart- sick with, threats. | here except to leave food and water. Gomichbooks They did not come near - (C@